


Rose in the Mouth of a Viper

by ILoveDragonsALot



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: And you hate it back, Angst and Humor, Black Sun, Character Death(s), F/M, Female Reader, I do love my action guys, I really am, I'm trying to keep this short, It rhymes like poetry, Mind-spinning action, Pffft how would I know, Reader Kicks Butt, Reader is a former assassin, Reader is also in third person, Tattoo crew, That stuff can break the story mann, The Empire hates you, There is no Y/N, Thrawn in Mandalorian armour, Traitors and Friends, You have a habit of causing trouble, and a lot of blood, basically slow burn but with a preset character, is this romance?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveDragonsALot/pseuds/ILoveDragonsALot
Summary: A blast to the stern shook the ship. “Give me visual, Nexu.”“We’ve got a smart one. It’s trailing our back.”“They’re trying to pincer us. You think our classic will work?”There was a pause on the other end.“What have we got to lose?”
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo & Eli Vanto, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Original Female Character(s), Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Reader
Comments: 97
Kudos: 50





	1. One Lucky Chance

_The sand viper lurks._

_Silently, it watches. Patiently, it waits._

_The sky is stroked with blood-red and the light is slowly choked away. But still, it waits for the time to pass. It waits for the pale face of the moon to rise and drench the land in grey. It waits for stars to prick the blackness with white._

_The first to pass it is too strong. Too certain in its steps._

_Not this, it thinks. It is not yet weak. But one day, it will walk past me and its steps will no longer be sure._

_And right it is._

“Traitors, you say?” He stroked his red-haired beard, a common colour among his people.

“If I was not clear enough before, perhaps heightened Imperial occupation will help you see more clearly.”

He turned back around. “That will not be necessary.”

The other smiled an ugly smile. “It wasn’t a threat, Governor.”

And almost as if by signal, four stormtroopers marched through the doors and seized him by his robes.

The governor’s wide eyes looked at the other in dismay.

“You’re under arrest for treason against the Emperor,” and the smile turned into a snarl. “Take him away. And make sure you find the other traitors. Tear apart the entire planet, if you have to. They’ll pay for their treachery.”

* * *

Nordika stumbled as her boots sank into the snow. Trying to wrench her foot out did not provide aid to her efforts, and she quickly found herself face-first in the rather cold substance.

She huffed. “Cursed snow.”

Her bare hands, which she was now regretting, pushed up, only to sink further down. A few more minutes of struggling had her breathing heavily, and she decided to dig around herself in the hopes that it would free her.

_I should have stuck to the trees._

A glance at the ice-blue sky told her she was neither late nor in serious trouble quite yet, and even if she was, the comlink on her wrist could summon help. The sharp smell of the morning was still on her tongue.

She brought her gaze back down and found herself face to face with a viper.

Nordika yelped, careening backwards as fast as she could. Her ankle twisted painfully.

The sun glinted dangerously off its white scales. Its blue eyes stared deeply into her wide green ones.

She didn’t dare to breathe.

Its tongue flicked in and out, empty icy gaze never leaving hers. And then, slowly, likely due to the cold, it raised its head towards the town she had come from. Then back to her.

She blinked as a clawed ship shot overhead and pierced the quiet with a high-pitched roar.

The viper was gone.

She laughed to herself, finally ripping out her foot. “That was close. Phew.”

And then she heard the screams.


	2. Adonis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nordika puts her skills as a pilot to use several years after Chapter 1. Unfortunately, things are not going according to her plans.

Nordika was slammed back in her seat, and the ship purred violently around her as its sleek form cut through the darkness. The dark triangle of a Star Destroyer lurked just in the corner of her eye.

Streaks of red shot past the window, and about 30 metres away, a TIE viciously exploded in a plume of white.

_“How’s it going up there, Viper?”_

Nordika grunted and pulled the ship into a hard twist. “Barely. Just keep those TIEs busy.”

 _“What do you think I’ve been doing?”_ The voice was interrupted by another explosion. _“Where’s Nexu?”_

 _“Up top doing the same thing as you,”_ a male voice growled.

_“Maker, I hate using these stupid names. Are you sure they’d even be able to slice our comms?”_

Nordika spun the ship around, green streaks from the TIEs narrowly missing them. She’d been ducking and darting for what felt like hours now, adrenaline pulsing through her veins. 

A TIE lined up neatly on her scope.

She fired and it burst open like a snowball.

_“Nice shot.”_

_“Speaking of slicers,”_ the one nicknamed Nexu hissed. _“What in Kagai’s name is Acklay doing?”_

“Securing the cargo,” Nordika interjected, making a mental note of the mess they’d left behind after hijacking one of the Empire’s transports and vowing to remember not to put a particular crew member on the guns again. “How many TIEs are down?”

 _“Six,”_ Nexu said.

An exasperated sound fizzled through the channel. _“Only six? Are you kidding?”_

_“Cy’een, maybe you should shoot with your hands instead of your mouth.”_

_“Shut_ up, _Opee.”_

“Break it up,” Nordika said sharply, and their bickering stopped. “I need an opening” -another TIE was promptly blasted to smithereens- “quickly.”

She glimpsed six more TIEs leave the hangar of the Star Destroyer. “Soon would be nice.”

The channel went silent as her crew on the guns swung around to battle the incoming TIEs.

In a move she knew made other pilots flinch, she swung the _Adonis_ in an arc and headed straight for the Empire’s fighters. They were known for being arrogant, and wouldn’t scatter against just one ship.

_“Oh, we’re doing this move now? Nice.”_

“Thank you, but focus, Cy’een.”

The first few red shots didn’t hit their target.

Cursing could be heard through the comms.

“Focus.”

Green fire from the fighters flashed against the shields. Nordika was jerked in her seat.

" _Focus."_

She began firing shots of her own, and the TIEs began disintegrating around them.

A blast to the stern shook the ship. “Give me visual, Nexu.”

_“We’ve got a smart one. It’s trailing our back.”_

“They’re trying to pincer us. You think our classic will work?”

There was a pause on the other end. _“What have we got to lose?”_

 _“Our lives, please and thank you,”_ Cy’een snapped.

“Ackley, how’s the tactical?” Nordika asked. She’d heard him enter a few minutes ago, the cargo secured.

His voice came from behind her, quiet with tension. “Too many fighters to take head-on. As you implied, hyperspace is our best bet.”

“The hyperdrive is charged, guys. I need that opening or our shields will fail and the power surge from the engines will blow us up.”

_“I’m trying, Viper.”_

_“Don’t try, just do. Remember Viper’s lessons, Cy’een?”_ Opee teased.

_“If you weren’t my love, I would have shot you by now.”_

_“I was ju-”_

Opee’s reply was cut off as the _Adonis’s_ steady speed suddenly increased and swerved down acutely, and in a stunning moment, the TIE that had been tailing them couldn’t stop in time as a fighter from the other direction slammed into it at full speed. The other TIEs were forced to veer off.

Opee and Cy’een cheered, and Nexu quietly congratulated Nordika.

 _“Now that’s flying!”_ Opee shouted. _“You go, Viper!”_

The ship shrugged off the last of the green fire as the star lines streaked blue, and the menacing diamond of the Star Destroyer melted into the calm ocean of hyperspace.

Nordika sunk back, letting out a private sigh of relief.

Behind her, Ackley, or as his real name was, Daj, sighed. “You succeeded again, Nordika. You can relax now.”

She stood up on unsteady legs and managed a smile. He looked a little green, his brown eyes dull, but that wasn’t anything new. Some people handled space travel worse than others.

“I’ll rest after I’ve made sure my crew are fine and I’ve done my sparring exercises.” She paused, her eyes soft. “But thank you, Daj. You performed well.”

* * *

He watched the scene over with narrowed red eyes.

_Calculated recklessness._

They were not quite desperate. Bold, certainly, but none of the moves they played against their enemy had been desperate. The pilot had been cool, concentrated. Focused on the field around them.

The gunners had worked well with the pilot, shooting down the TIE fighters one after the other like it was second nature. A well-oiled crew, bonded over their many missions. An equally well-kept ship that the pilot played skillfully like a stringed instrument. Their moves were reckless.

But not desperate.

Perhaps he would need to push them to that point to better understand them.

However, at the moment, he needed to address yet again the Commander’s failure to capture the rebels.

It was becoming intolerable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking of waiting a bit longer to post Chapter 2, but naaaaah. It's up, and this scene was fuuuun!  
> They now have a way bigger problem on their hands.


	3. You May Run, But You Will Not Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can run, you can hide, but you will not escape.  
> You will not escape the cage you've made for yourself.

Nordika ran her fingers over the ink on her arm. Her skin was pale, so she couldn’t use white ink like she had wanted to, but the black and blue ink still did it justice. The lines formed a serpent’s head and gradually entwined into a pattern that streamed up her arm, past her elbow, in swirls of grief and pain. It ended with a change to the pattern, a calm sea after the storm, pieced together with fragments of what had started everything.

Everyone else in her crew had one tattoo that they were nicknamed after. They all had stories to tell. She was no exception.

The sand viper.

It had known… somehow. It had known about her connections and about that morning.

It had known.

It could have killed her. It wouldn’t have taken much effort. She would have been an easy target. She hadn’t even been armed with a knife, a common weapon in her culture. But it had stared her in the eyes, one of those cursed TIE fighters streaking the skies overhead, and it had somehow known about what was going to happen, and what already had.

And so she had tattooed a viper on her arm.

It was a long time after the turmoil that was her life had settled. Long after the Empire had burned down her town after ripping it apart.

A long time after she had been left for dead with no home, and no parents.

She had killed her fair share of Imperials. But it would never be enough. It would never satisfy her hunger to hurt the Empire the way it had hurt her.

The Empire had to pay for what it had done to her planet. To her people. To every single being in the galaxy that it had killed or beaten or imprisoned or tortured or hurt in the same way.

She could let its blood run red for a thousand years and it still wouldn’t be enough to pay for its crimes.

Cy’een, or rather Nira, the pale orange Twi’lek, burst through the door, her eyes stretched wide with terror.

Nordika was already alert. “What?”

She was breathing heavily. “The cargo was a trick.”

Nordika raced through the door, into the cargo bay, Nira hot on her heels.

“What is the meaning of this?”

The rest of her crew was already gathered around the crates, their voices sharp with fear.

She peered down into the one that had occupied her crew’s attention.

There was a single holocomm with a single recording playing on repeat.

Nordika didn’t hear what the rest of the sinister message said. The only thing she could hear, the only thing playing around and around in her head was _I am Grand Admiral Thrawn._

* * *

**Eight Years Ago**

Nordika hooked her arm around the last stormtrooper, her other hand snapping his jaw sideways, and his neck gave out with a sickening crunch.

There had been twelve of them.

An entire squad. Killed. Killed by her.

Just because of one mistake.

She drew in a ragged breath. The blood on her hands didn’t bother her. All stormtroopers were loyal to the Empire. All were guilty for crimes against the common people.

No, what bothered her was that she had just pushed herself up on the Empire’s wanted list.

Nordika flicked her hands, scattering scarlet. Their armour couldn’t protect them from her hatred.

She picked up her blaster from where it had been knocked out of her hand and checked it over for damage.

She needed to get out of here. Fast.

The creeping feeling of being watched crawled across the back of her neck.

The alleyway was deserted as far as she could see, but the feeling persisted. She needed to leave, before the Empire sent out a call to have her head on a platter. The other assassins in Black Sun had no honour, and even her ties wouldn’t save her if the Empire put money over her head.

For some, credits were the only reason they took these jobs.

She stuffed the necklace deeper in her jacket. That was the evidence she needed to show Black Sun she had completed yet another job. They would be pleased, and she could refill her pockets while she searched for more ways to hurt the Empire.

The feeling intensified.

She pulled her hood far over her face and started running, the route foreign to her yet well memorized from holos of the city.

She just needed to get to her ship. The _Adonis._ Then she could leave.

And then she saw him.

It was just a holo, talking to a stormtrooper commander in one of the blockades. But she saw clearly who it was. She’d heard his name whispered like some sort of mythical being among those in Black Sun. How he had climbed up the ranks with record speed. How the politicians up top hated him but could do nothing.

He was an alien. The only alien that high in the ranks of the Empire.

And he was somewhere around.

She needed to get out of here.

Nordika took a shortcut, out of sight of the blockade, and darted down a side street. Her ship was up ahead. If she could just get to her ship...

_Come on. Come on!_

A cool voice called out. Above the sharp sound of her own breathing. It cut like a knife.

“Her.”

And the night lit up with blaster fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They messed with the wrooong guy.  
> Honestly, Thrawn doesn't muck around. He acts while staying two steps ahead of his opponents.  
> Knowing Nordika's hatred for the Empire, she's not going to let this go.
> 
> "This is fun," I tell myself, while desperately trying to make my brain not end up writing a 50-page document with three plot twists and a tragic ending. "You better deliver that inspiration, brain."


	4. I Must Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape is temporary. A fleeting moment.  
> The satisfaction of the captor is never dulled by one so-seen defeat, nor does the terror of the victim cease.

**Eight Years Ago (Continued)**

“Ah, the Viper is back! And with results, I see,” the pale-skinned human said, his dark eyes far too sharp for the smoothness of his tongue. “In record time. Word around the street was that the Imperials have been looking for you.”

He placed his hands flat on the table around his bag of credits, and after surveying her surroundings like a hawk-bat, she put down the necklace.

It wasn’t anything much of note. Just a plain gold necklace with a large, rather unimpressive green gem in the centre. It was the data chip behind the gem that was what was important, as well as the fact that its owner was no longer alive.

The bag between his hands was as large as she expected it to be, and she sat down at the other side of the table, ordering a drink.

She knew the bartender here, had made it her business to do so, and in no way would he poison any of her drinks. He profited off her success, as the person at this table shared some of the rewards with him. To lose her would be unfortunate, and the aftermath even more so.

After all, it took a while for poisons to take effect. Once she was done with him, he wouldn't have to worry about _anything._

She couldn't resist touching her tattoo to reassure herself.

Nordika didn’t let her wince show as the blaster bolt that had caught the edge of her leg flared painfully, among the other hits that had turned her pale skin from white to dark red and black. She had to change clothes so as not to betray her state.

Those wounds could be addressed later. For now...

"The target was eliminated," Nordika said curtly, mirroring his relaxed stance. "There were a few extra casualties, but nothing that affected the overall result. The data was also erased once I had copied it onto a datacard."

She also placed that next to the necklace, its blood-red colour a dizzying contrast to the grey of the table. It was always satisfying to see her results, now that they were collected in front of her.

In reflex, her eyes traced over the other customers. Three Rodians, a Zabrak, the pale orange Twi'lek waitress, and a perhaps-Pantoran and a human with their faces covered in much the same way hers was. It was of no concern to see customers with their faces covered, and they did not seem very interested in her shared conversation, so she paid them no special attention. Nevertheless, she did not leave them far from her sight.

He pushed the bag over to her. “Your payment, as agreed.”

She checked it briefly, then took out a quarter of the credits and placed them between his hands.

He met her eyes with a cunning look. “I see there is something else you need.”

“Yes,” she said. “You deal in classified information, I believe?”

The glimmer in his eyes intensified, and she thanked the waitress as her drink was easily set down on the table. Her gaze flicked back to him.

“Of course, my dear.” Thick poison oozed beneath the slippery words.

She leaned back in her seat, gripping her drink and slipping the rest of the credits out of sight. She resisted the urge to caress her blaster, the fear clawing at her heart unseen. 

In as quiet a voice as she could muster, her breath muffled by the cloth concealing her face, she ordered: “Tell me about Admiral Thrawn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muahahaha!!!  
> Man, her teenage years were C H A O T I C, amiright?
> 
> Thank you for the continued support, guys! This was just a smol little chapter while I continue with the B I G P L O T.


	5. Plan for Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Musing will never fall silent. They continue, spurred on by fear and fueled by anger. A terrified mind will never cease to wonder.

**Present Day**

Nordika paced in her quarters slowly. The fearful thoughts in her head were not betrayed in her steps.

Grand Admiral Thrawn.

Not a name she had expected to hear again in such close terms.

But he had appeared again.

Her missions were clearly catching the attention of those at the top. That was not something she could afford to do, not now, not ever. Certainly since she had acquired a crew she did not wish to lose.

A family, even.

Nira and she had grown close over their many missions. She thought of her as a sister, and Nira likewise. They both knew what it was like to lose someone.

No, she couldn't let her crew come under the spotlight.

Nordika worked in the shadows. She picked off small transports, stole cargo that wouldn’t exactly be sorely missed by the Empire, and only did small operations. Sometimes Imperial casualties were high, but it served them right.

When she was younger, she had been far more reckless. She had assassinated both Imperials and non-Imperials. A job was a job, and if it was against the Empire, even better.

She had left when Black Sun started using that for their own sinister gain. They had always profited off her, but it had become poisonous. Something had changed. There had been a plan underneath all those jobs, a bigger plan that they weren’t telling her about. So she fled.

Now she had a crew. People she trusted. People she loved.

And this Thrawn was not going to take that away from her.

So she brought up the file she had made that one fateful night, after barely escaping with her life. After she had been told who he was and how he had arrived in the Empire, and the human he had managed to drag around with him.

He could capture her, but even that wouldn’t halt the hell she could wreak.

* * *

Eli Vanto frowned. Thrawn had been correct, as he always was.

The shock of the holocomm and the sudden challenge meant they were too distracted to check the cargo for trackers.

* * *

Daj fiddled around with the holocomm.

The rest of the crew sat around in various positions, different expressions dominating their faces.

“So let me get this correct,” Nexu ground out. His real name was Ruul, but the crew tended to call him Nexu outside of operations because it annoyed him. “We’re currently on the radar of a Grand Admiral, who has indirectly challenged us to see how long we last. What actions are we going to take?”

Always the level-headed one. Of course, the same questions had been plaguing Nordika for hours.

The pale-orange Twi’lek shook her head, sending her lekku swinging. She hissed something in her native tongue. “More like how we blow him out of his fancy little command chair.”

Opee, who actually was just called Opee because only Nira knew his real name, shrugged. “I’d be with that if it wasn’t a Grand Admiral. This isn’t the usual Commander we’re used to duping over and over.”

Nordika stayed silent.

Ruul growled. “He has resources that we do not.”

The crew broke into muttering, save for Daj, who was absorbed in his examinations of the holocomm.

“The Seventh Fleet,” Nordika said quietly.

Everyone else except Daj looked up.

“Met him before?” Nira asked, one eyebrow tilted elegantly.

“A while back. Grand Admiral Thrawn will not mess around, not like the previous one. We need to treat this situation differently. We need a new style. A new strategy.”

“What do you suggest?” Ruul inquired.

“Daj. How’s the holocomm going?”

He let it clatter to the table with an exasperated sigh. “It’s clean, as far as I can tell. All that’s on it is the recording.”

Nordika frowned in thought. “I was thinking we play him at his own game.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Daj, download the recording and wipe the holocomm. Let’s send him a little message of our own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nordika is not going to put up with a threat to those she loves. Definitely not since she lost those close to her when she was younger.
> 
> I wonder how well that message will go down...  
> Thanks so much for the continued support, guys! It means a lot!


	6. The Assassin's Tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee little chapter that reminds you how everything is going to go so wrong.  
> It includes art Thrawn.

Thrawn was musing quietly, his gaze far away into the speckled darkness out the viewport of the  _ Chimaera _ when he heard Eli Vanto’s sharp steps enter the bridge and stride towards him. He turned, and Eli stiffened to attention, murmuring a greeting.

“At ease, Lieutenant Commander,” he said calmly. Eli relaxed. “Was the signal successfully traced?”

“Yes sir,” Eli answered. “Lieutenant Batai said they exited hyperspace a few minutes ago in the Ottega system. How did you know they’d be there?”

“Patterns from their attacks. The tracking device would merely confirm if that was their final destination.” Thrawn loosened his stance and walked past him, gesturing for Vanto to follow.

Once they were inside Thrawn’s dark office, he activated the hologram, and images and files of all kinds stretched out in front of them.

Five of the files were on people, four humans and a Twi’lek.

As she was out of place, his eyes gravitated to the Twi’lek first. Average height, lithe body. Pale orange skin and sharp green eyes with a touch of defiance. What was most captivating were the tattoos over both lekku. They were some sort of water creature, a terrifying beast with sharp edges and dark blue ink.

They would have been unbearably painful.

She was certainly dedicated.

The rest of her file was… interesting, to say the least. Highly classified, to say it honestly. The report also spoke of a deceased sister, Kera Erera.

Another reason for them to hate the Empire.

His eyes travelled over the others, noting down names and scrolling through measurements.  _ Nira Erera, Daj Jara, Ruul Tarick, Eru Nalaka... _

At last, Eli’s gaze settled on what must have been the captain. The pilot that had made her ship dance between the TIEs who’s airmen had been trained for years as if it was simple and she hadn’t just pulled twelve tricks off the edge of her sleeve.

She didn’t have a clear picture or a full name.

_ Viper. Human. Former Black Sun assassin. _

He finally spoke aloud. “Their captain was an assa-? Oh. OH.”

“I believe you have made the correct connection,” Thrawn said quietly.

“That’s her? That time-?” He blinked. “ _ Her? _ ”

In answer, Thrawn brought up a few more images. None included her face, almost as if had been erased, but there was one thing that all the images had in common.

They all showed the tattoo on her arm. The viper.

“I gather you found what planet she’s from, sir?”

“Agamar, in the Outer Rim. Unfortunately, I have yet to determine exactly who she is, as she shares the common red hair and green eyes of her people. The tattoo on her arm is a Sand Viper, a type of serpent known for its strange behaviour and deadly venom. I find it interesting that instead of representing it as a savage being, it is made in such a way as to represent change and tragedy. Knowing her approximate age and recognizing the notable characteristics of her tattoo, I can determine that she was affected by the arrest of Governor Vaask and the destruction of the insurgents taking refuge on Agamar. Her hatred for the Empire and her many assassinations only confirm that she will not turn down my challenge.”

Eli shook his head slowly, his eyes blank with disbelief. “I have no idea how you do that. Did it tell you anything else?”

“Her attack will likely start with a mimic of my challenge, as can be noticed in the exactness of the serpent’s head, but her goal will be to make the situation dissolve into chaos, as is noted in how the tail of the serpent forms into flowing patterns that do not follow the anatomy of the viper.”

“So she’ll try something like bombing after catching your attention with the same trick you used on her?”

Thrawn allowed himself a small, satisfied smirk. “Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention how dead these guys are? Cause these guys are dead.
> 
> Art Thrawn was fun to write. Eli doesn't even question the 'artness' anymore. He's just like "Well that's great you know about their traumatic childhood and their favourite foot to walk on. What's the plan?"


	7. Don't Think of Them as People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nordika ponders over the idea that she and Grand Admiral Thrawn may not be so different.
> 
> It is not wise to ponder such similarities when planning for battle.

Opee grinned. “I love bombs.”

“I do not like bombs,” Daj said. “They are dangerous, messy, destructive-”

“Take a break,” Nira sighed. “They’re literally bombs. They’re supposed to be messy. That’s the whole _point.”_

“I work with droids and computers and ships, not _explosives."_

Nordika rubbed her temples gently, trying to shut them out. She loved her crew, but sometimes they could clash and she was left with a pounding headache afterwards. That headache was not helped by the fact that she was trying to outsmart a Grand Admiral, of all people, who had a reputation of strange methods including art. That was what was worrying her at the moment.

Her entire crew had made themselves into a canvas. They told stories. That was the problem.

Some people could read those stories. People who didn’t deserve to know.

Such as this Grand Admiral.

He was intriguing, she would admit. Unorthodox. She wondered why his people had exiled him, or if they had really exiled him at all.

It would be the perfect cover if everything went together the way she suspected. A genius, exiled just within reach of the Empire, and the attack on the Imperials that had got him aboard the _Strikefast..._

And his aide, a human just like her, dragged along through the flames as Thrawn climbed the ladder. Had he been deceived into service for the man? After all, a resource could never be allowed to slip from one's grasp.

Nordika knew she wouldn't turn such an offer down, no matter how bad that would have made her look. A boy who knew the Empire, the ways of the rest of the galaxy, and had been trained in its ways... no, that was too good an offer to forsake. And his file even said he spoke Sy Bisti, a trade language in Wild Space, which would have pained him through the years with the Core's xenophobism. Eli Vanto and Thrawn would have been in the same weather, which would have made him all the more easier to manipulate.

Thrawn may not have even needed an aide. He simply needed someone to learn from.

A person that could be used as an easy link to everyone else, someone who's ties had slowly been dissolved under the pressure until their only affiliation was with you. Nordika would have jumped at an opportunity that presented itself so effortlessly, both back when she was an assassin and now.

They may not be so different after all.

The thought made her feel sick.

It was equally likely her years as an assassin had made her paranoid beyond repair.

She placed her hand over the tattoo on her forearm. _May you see my crew through, no matter what the cost. Keep them safe as you have kept me safe._

Nordika opened her eyes and let her warm breath wash over her lips. “Daj. They are connected to the remote, correct?”

Daj frowned. “Of course they are.”

“Good. We need a backup plan if things don’t go the way we want them to, so let’s go over the plan again.”

She called Nexu down from the front of the ship, and when they were all together, she pulled up a hologram of a Star Destroyer.

The _Chimaera._

Nordika shut out the thought of how many people on that ship would die in the explosion. She tried reminding herself that they all worked for the Empire. And all Imperials were the same.

_All Imperials should burn along with their Emperor._

“So at first, we’ve got this empty crate that contains the holocomm. That will be delivered to the surface where, when opened in the routine cargo survey, will display the message we have for Grand Admiral Thrawn. When the surface calls him down to investigate, we put into motion part two. We board a transport as the crew. The transport is licensed as being manned only by droids, so Daj must modify the license to having a live crew and we’ll destroy and float the droids. We then split up, Ruul, Opee and I ensuring that the food supplies are transported to the food stocks area in the belly of the Star Destroyer. The transport will be scanned for anything out of the ordinary such as explosives, so the bombs must stay inactive until we reach the hangar bay. When the bombs are active again and are where they’re supposed to be, we then retreat back to the ship. Just before we enter hyperspace we activate the bombs and hopefully, that will be that.”

“And if something goes wrong?” Ruul asked.

“If they get onto us, Nira and Daj flee the transport and go to where they keep the TIE Defenders. They have hyperdrives, so we can get away from there in those. If not them, then a shuttle will do. And if worst comes to worst, I’ll lead them away and you escape. I should be able to secure something to fly after you’ve left. If not, I’m the one who’s most likely to survive interrogation. If we get to that point… don’t come back for me.”

Their eyes went dark, but they knew better than to argue.

Last time that happened…

Let’s just say there used to be six members of the _Adonis._

It was all too fresh in their minds.

Nira took a deep breath. “Let’s go blow up a starship. We’ll make Kera proud.”

They had completed most of their preparation when disaster came crawling out of the abyss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nordika has two personalities. One decides what is right morally, and one decides what is right logically. Her years as an assassin have switched her off to the first one. Or so she tells herself.
> 
> Fun fact: Nordika often consults Ruul (or Nexu) about tactics for the battle, not because she can't see the path ahead, but because it assures her that it must be the right decision if he thinks it too.
> 
> Let's just say her conscience isn't the cleanest thing you can have. :/ She likes to think that what she's doing is right for the good of the galaxy, but she doesn't quite realize how it's affecting her. She's gone numb.  
> I wonder if Thrawn's going to pull on that...
> 
> Unfortunately, I won't be able to update next work week, but I might be able to update on that weekend. I also have absolutely no idea when this is going to finish, but it shouldn't go for too long.  
> Famous last words, lol.  
> Wait, have I said that before? I think I've said that before...


	8. Tell Me Where to Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thrawn has pushed Nordika to make her move earlier than expected.
> 
> She does not yet know what it will cost.

Daj lost his footing and rolled around on the floor. Nordika didn’t have time to slow down.

“I thought you said the Ottega system had a _light Imperial presence!”_ He shouted.

“It does! It did!” Nira screeched through the comlink, swinging around to face the swarming TIEs on the guns. “But do you think they care?”

Nordika spun the ship hard, a storm of turboblaster fire raining down on them. She heard Daj grunt, followed by a thump.

“Daj!” she called out, wincing as the shields fizzled with the incoming fire. “Get up here!”

She barely heard Daj’s feet slipping along the floor towards the cockpit through the blood pounding in her ears.

Her fingers flew over the control board, angling deflector shields, diverting power to the cannons and engines, eliminating any unnecessary processes. Many of the lights went dark as their power was cut off.

Nordika’s attention was strewn between the TIEs and the Star Destroyer glinting harshly ahead of them.

Below them, the planet Ithor lay peacefully, blissfully unaware of the havoc wreaking above its skies.

She hissed as the  _ Adonis’s _ speed increased sharply to evade the fire.

How unfitting for it to be green.

She spun around, noting that Daj had strapped himself to the chair next to her.

Nordika activated the comm channel. She was greeted with shouting. Nira’s voice filled the cockpit.

_ “-an’t keep doing this.” _

“Hang in there, Cy’een.” She banked left and up hard, eliciting a sharp grunt from Daj.

The TIEs slithered closer, streaks of green fire creeping closer to the  _ Adonis. _

They were trying to herd her into range of the tractor beams.

Turboblaster fire spattered on the shields. Nordika was knocked forwards. Nira cursed.

_ “We can’t hold this up!” _

She gritted her teeth, swerving to and fro in reflex, fear clenching her throat and chest. She and her crew did not get this far just to be obliterated by one Star Destroyer and some TIEs. She did not drag herself through the mud just so she could reach the other side and die there. She did  _ not _ plan to die here. Not when she still had plans. Not when she still had a crew.

Her fingers locked down on the forward cannons, and a TIE burst open in a white explosion.

“We have to.”

She swung around, rage pushing her forwards, the  _ Adonis _ weaving through fire by her hands.

Three more TIEs perished as the cannons split them apart.

Five more gave in under the fire of Ruul, Nira and Opee.

This ship had been built to fight. She had been built to fight. And she was going to fight.

She would fight until the last breath in her being left her.

The TIEs were taking fire all around them, blowing up like fireworks in the void. It was like a minefield being set aflame.

The enemy was being mown down.

Nordika had never flown this fast. Had never had to rely only on rage and the will to push through. But it was working. The tide was turning, slowly and brutally.

_ “Keep going, Viper!” _ Nira screeched through the comms.  _ “We’re doing it!” _

She heard a breath of relief from behind her.

“We’re getting through,” Daj said, stress still keeping his voice tight. “Shields are holding out. We can power up the hyperdrive soon.”

They were faster than the TIEs. Able to turn sharper. And they had something, other than firepower and skill, that the Empire’s pilots did not.

They were desperate.

Nordika fired again. And again. And again. She could almost feel the triumph in the air, calling to her.

It was almost as if the viper was telling her when to strike.

“Daj, power up the-” she didn’t get the rest out.

A second creature tore its way out of hyperspace.

She jerked away, her fingers tightened to snow-white, her back rigid. A small cry of horror escaped her pale lips.

“No. No. Daj, power up the hyperdrive.”

“But the power surge-”

Nordika’s mouth pulled back into a snarl. “Just do it, Daj! I don’t want you to die!”

Daj flinched, and she couldn’t find the words to apologize.

Warnings flashed blood-red everywhere. Turboblaster fire blazed over the shields, and her stomach lurched.

She no longer cared to be careful. She darted throughout the new squadrons, swerving sharply around and around, forcing the TIEs to slow and scatter as she rained fire down on them. They retaliated.

They were again thrown forward against the straps. Her shoulders burned with the strain.

When was the last time she had breathed?

“Nexu, Thrawn’s probably done this. He’s forcing us to make our move sooner. What do you suggest?”

There was a long pause on the other end. By the time he spoke up, Nordika had almost forgotten what she’d asked among the chaos.

_ “We have no choice but to follow his plan, for now. If we go down to the surface, we’re setting ourselves up to die.” _

Nordika dragged in a long breath, her chest flaring painfully. “I’m afraid I agree.”

She swerved sideways as a cluster of fire almost blew up the power surge in the engines.

She clenched her teeth, fists curling around the steering controls.

“Daj. Do it.”

In the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a sharp glint. A tiny glint.

Nordika threw the ship sideways. Flashes of light streaked past the viewport.

Everything went white.

Then black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK BABYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!  
> Schoolwork was first on my schedule when I got back from holiday, but it's here! It's back! And it's FAAAST! Sorry for the delay. :/
> 
> Now for my cRAck summary (I would take a bullet for the amazing people who comment on these chapters):
> 
> Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No! It's Nordika trying not to DIE!
> 
> Guess who's back. Back again:  
> -It's Thrawn being an absolute donkey!
> 
> <3 <3


	9. The Viper Speaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The viper speaks with a voice of wisdom and the knowledge of rage.  
> Watch out for its fangs.

Nordika, clutching her head, opened her eyes.

Everything was in a weird shade of bluish-grey light, painting the snowy forest in dull colours. The place was impossibly silent.

Where she expected to hear the chirping of insects and screaming song-birds, only quiet greeted her.

What she expected to be cold snow, all she felt was numbness.

She blinked hard, looking around in wonder. Everything was the same, captured in a lie of paused time. Or, more accurately, the void of memory.

Nordika brushed her golden-red hair out of her eyes to get a better look, memorizing the fine details in the bark of the black trees and crawling shrubs. Her breath was sharp and icy.

It all felt so wrong.

She leapt to her feet, tearing apart the scene with her eyes. All of it was so peaceful, so frozen, so… false. That was all she could see.

The galaxy could never be this peaceful.

She watched in horror as the tattoo on her arm began to crawl.

It bubbled and twisted. Writhed until it was pulling off her skin.

She fell back as it peeled itself off and slithered across the ground.

As she watched, its lines morphed into glittering scales. The colours smeared into a pallet of blues and whites.

It turned back to her and curled itself around in a coil.

And stared.

She stared back.

Nordika started violently when it spoke.

In her mother’s voice.

“You should join me, Nordika. Your father won’t last much longer.”

Over the whisper of the breeze, she heard her own voice answer, younger and uncontrolled.

“What do you mean?”

The viper’s tone was smooth. Just as sinister as she remembered it. “Oh? Do you think the Empire’s going to support his decisions? His  _ mistakes?” _

“I never said that,” she’d shot back. “But the people support him. They like him. The Empire can’t replace him.”

“Oh, honey.” The voice dripped with scorn.  _ “They already have.” _

Nordika was too cold to cry.

The viper dipped its head and slithered closer to her, carving a trench in the snow.

“You have learned from that day,” it hissed in a papery voice.  _ “But you are still the same on the inside.” _

She was wary. After all, she was speaking to a viper. “Do you believe I am too predictable?”

“You have chaos bleeding through your eyes and beating in your heart. They do not expect you to be civil, to talk with respect. They expect you to be savage.”

She stood again carefully, matching the viper’s looming height. “You want me to go against my instincts.”

It let out a sharp hiss. She suppressed a shiver. “Not… instincts. There is yet a fight to take place. You need strength for what is ahead. There is an unknown. A challenge. A challenge that will test you. You are too used to having your enemies run from you or be split apart in empty space. This is a different war. A war you have been running from for a long time.”

She considered those words. Mulled them over.

Feared what they implied.

“Who should I be fighting, then?”

If a sand viper could have interest in its eyes, that’s what she’d call it. “Not just yourself, as you think it to be. There is another person you have not yet considered.”

She met its cold gaze with her own, a cruel smile curling her pale lips as new paths formed in her mind. “What do you want me to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's the mysterious other person? nObOdY kNoWs  
> lol yes of course I know I'm supposed to be in charge of this story. "You hear that?" I yell to my fanfic. "You're MINE! Stop running away!"  
> *Locks door behind me* "Now, the crack summary."
> 
> Nordika, taking a stroll and talking to the wind: "Got any advice?"  
> Her tattoo, politely: "Want some DEATHSTICKS?"  
> Nordika: 0-0
> 
> Thrawn, looking at holos of Nordika's tattoo: "It's a beautiful work of art."  
> The tattoo: "If I may offer my opinion-"  
> Nordika: "No."
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> <3 <3


	10. Rise and Shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future is constantly in motion. A plan that is reliable one day may be proven to be unreliable the next.  
> One must always be ready to adjust.

Nordika woke up with a pounding headache. Her vision swam with blurred colours.

She wasn’t in the pilot’s seat anymore.

Someone was pushing her back down.

“Get off me,” she growled, grasping the person’s arms in an iron grip.

Black Sun wouldn’t come to get her. She had to escape, get out of here, retrieve her weapons...

She tightened her grip as thoughts raced through her muddled mind.

Opee blinked, sharing a raised eyebrow with Nira. “You must have hit your head hard. Usually we’d all be incapacitated by now.”

She jolted back to reality and let him go hastily. Everything was still blurry. “I apologize. I thought I was somewhere else.”

“In the heavens, obviously,” Nira muttered.

“I’m not deaf, Nira.”

She muttered something in her mother tongue.

Nordika did also. “ _ The sun will set over your remarks and you won’t be any wiser.” _

Nira snapped her gaze back to Nordika. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” she replied calmly. “Where are we?”

“On the way to intercept the transport. We’re almost at the first point where we recalculate the jump, right on schedule,” Opee supplied.

“The  _ first _ point?”

Daj jumped in from somewhere off to Nordika’s side. “We had to jump early, so we’re improvising by catching them on their first recalculation. It’s just a little closer to their starting point than we would like.” His eyes darkened. “Provided our intel is even correct.”

“Ships resupply Star Destroyers all the time,” Nira countered. “Why would the intel be off?”

Nordika’s face flashed with horror as she remembered something abruptly, lurching forwards. “Trackers! Did you check for trackers?”

Nira’s face stayed neutral, and she didn’t hear Daj suck in a terrified breath, so they must have removed them. 

“There was one tracker,” Opee said. “Which we threw out the airlock, by the way.”

Nordika hissed. “I should have checked for trackers in the cargo first. I’m so  _ stupid-” _

Nira sighed. “We’re alive. That’s what matters.”

_ But for how much longer? How far will we take this fight? To the Empire, we’re terrorists. Murderers. And rightly so. Me… even more so. The Empire has blood on their hands, but so do we. If I am to convince who I need to convince... _

She blinked hard against the harsh white lights. If this was to work, she needed to do more than just plan. She needed to act, to push forward, and to do what needed to be done.

To  _ try. _

Nordika sighed heavily, her head throbbing painfully. She pressed her palm to it, relishing the cold. “I need to redo our message.”

Nira threw her a considering look, her tattooed orange lekku swinging. Daj frowned.

Opee mirrored Daj’s expression. “Why? The message was good!”

“There are a couple of things I need to change. Things I haven’t yet considered.”

Opee looked unimpressed.

Nira rolled her eyes and roughly, but affectionately, if that was possible, pushed him aside. She offered a smooth orange hand to Nordika.

She clasped it firmly and was heaved up to her feet.

“Let’s go.” Nira shot Opee a death glare. “And not a  _ word.” _

He gave his most pathetically innocent expression, and Nira facepalmed.

* * *

Nordika locked her and Nira in her quarters with another sigh. Nira held the holocomm out.

She took it with a soft ‘thank you’, and sat on the floor in front of her. Her knees cracked sharply.

There was a gentle moment of silence where Nordika quietly admired the similarities of Nira’s eyes to those of her people. Large and strikingly green, it was almost as if she was staring into the eyes of an Agamarian. The orange skin alluded to red hair.

It was strange to be reminded of Agamar from such a long way away. But then, the viper hadn’t let her run far.

_ And I can’t run forever. _

Nira spoke first. Her voice was quiet, the accent of Ryloth thick in her words. “We’re going to lose, aren’t we?”

Nordika didn’t grimace, but the emotion related to it flickered in her mind. “Yes.”

Her green eyes were knowing. “But there’s more to it than that.”

“Yes. We can’t beat the Grand Admiral, but we can show those close to him that he’s not who they think he is,” Nordika explained. “And if it works, that will be the victory we need.”

Nira considered for a moment. “You clearly have someone in mind.”

She offered her friend a small, disconcerting smile. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol u thought she'd been captured.
> 
> Thrawn wouldn't have captured the team yet because they were still in possession of bombs, which would have meant Nordika and co would have rather sacrificed themselves than get captured by the Empire, taking a Star Destroyer and its crew along with them.  
> Sooo not yet. If he succeeds, that is, and they don't all get blown to smithereens anyway.
> 
> Crack summary:
> 
> Nordika: I must TRY!  
> Thrawn: Or you could like, not.  
> Nordika:  
> Thrawn:  
> Nordika: This isn't your scene. Get lost.  
> Thrawn: If I may offer my opinion-  
> Nordika: GET OUT, DAMMIT


	11. Breathe Out the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Success depends on planning, and planning depends on how sane the planner is.
> 
> Sanity is tainted by the darkness that comes from hatred and fear. No matter how much you try to breathe it out, _it will never leave._

Nordika’s fingers glided over the control board with minds of their own. Cloaking was activated, the hyperdrive was powered down, and the lights were low.

She could almost feel the prickling from her tattoo, the viper’s eyes staring up at her as she took a sharp breath. It did nothing to calm her nerves, but oxygen was rather necessary if she was going to function. If she really wanted to escape, the airlock was always available.

That had crossed her mind, both with seriousness and humour, more times than she would care to count. Not that it would help.

Daj’s foot-tapping lurked in the corner of her eye. The sound almost echoed.

If only the air wasn’t so still.

She sucked in another breath. Cold and icy, needles of realization, sharp with emotions she did not acknowledge. In the back of her mind, an ashen creature slithered, whispering taunts.

_ You won’t win this fight. _

_ Your friends will die. _

_ This is your last mistake. _

And the worst one, a voice that sliced into her head like broken glass into bare feet.

_ Your father is waiting to welcome you in the grave. _

She shoved out the memory of that one day, wandering around the cobblestone streets, alleys painted with slick stripes of faded red and green. Wet ashes smeared across faces in charred strips. Snow-slush pressed into the cracks in the pavement. The thick smell of fear, searing chills into her cold bones.

And the weariness. The defeat. The air stank of failure, hanging heads portrayed from every figure old enough to understand.

Old enough to understand that-

She pressed imaginary fingers into the picture, grasped it, and threw it to the back of her mind. Her throat was seized by black claws. Ached with suppressed emotion.

Emptiness blazed behind her eyes.

Nordika blinked it away, but the ice crawled down her collar, slithered through her fingers in acute pangs, making their way to her chest.

It twisted, like someone had sunk a knife beneath her ribcage and wrenched it around, and with a lurching, sucking sound, jerked it out again.

She blinked, a tremble coursing through her fingers.

She’d been staring off into hyperspace again.

She drew in another, painful breath, barely hearing Daj’s countdown.

_ 3… _

_ You’ll never succeed. _

_ 2… _

_ You’re going to get your crew killed. _

_ 1… _

_ You are- _

“NOW!”

She slammed back the acceleration. Blue lines flickered into blackness and stars.

“Go!” she shouted into the comms.

The TIE escort had no time to react. Three shots and it was done. White spattered the darkness briefly.

She swung the  _ Adonis _ onto the airlock of the transport before it could escape. Her fingers shot over the buttons. Powered down the engines. Raised the shields. Magnetized the connection.

And then released their unseen weapon.

An electrified hull.

Static prickled along the back of her neck. She glimpsed a shimmer of blue transfer onto the transport’s hull. Its lights flickered and died.

She waited for five seconds.

“Nexu,” Nordika ordered. He grunted in acknowledgement. “Are all the lights and signals down?”

She waited for several long moments. Another breath in. Another breath out.

If they weren’t-

_ “Clear.” _

Nordika deflated, her shoulders slumping in relief. “Nira, open the airlock.”

The woosh of an opening hatch travelled through the still air.

_ If Thrawn knows our plan… _

She blinked hard. They were on borrowed time. They needed to use it.

In the corner of her eye, she could see the viper. Ice-blue. Cold eyes. Its smooth voice washed through her mind.

_ You have chaos bleeding through your eyes and beating in your heart. _

_ “Awaiting direction, over.” _

Nordika’s fingers tightened. Her nails dug into her flesh. Calmly, she said: “Proceed.”

There was a light thud.

She would have closed her eyes and concentrated on the sounds around her, but she needed to keep her eyes on the void and ears tuned into the  _ Adonis’ _ sensors. 

The blaster holstered on her hip couldn’t have been more ingrained in her mind than it was now.

“Nexu, how is Cy’een doing?”

There was another long pause.

When had she started breathing so quickly?

Cy’een’s voice blasted through the comms. Nordika winced.

_ “How about you ask her, Viper?” _

Next to her, Daj clutched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“Are all the droids down?” Nordika asked, her thin lips pulled tight.

_ “Uhhh…” _

There was a loud crash of metal on metal. Both Daj and she jolted in their seats. Nordika’s R3-series astromech, Sámhach, bleeped worriedly in the dark corner at the dataport.

“Cy’een!”

_ “Yeah, they’re  _ definitely _ down.” _

Daj muttered under his breath. “Literally.”

He pressed in sharply on the comms in the co-pilot's seat, and she noted absently after a glance that his hands were shaking. “Cy’een, could you  _ please _ hurry up. I need to put the altered data in the ship’s databank.”

Sámhach let out a shrill whistle as if in confirmation.

There was a gurgled scoff over the line.  _ “It must be bad if the little droid is saying something.” _

Sámhach was usually quiet and reserved, much like Nordika, and must have been feeling the tension of the situation if he was making a noise.

Strange, considering he was a droid.

Daj’s foot continued tapping away. “Hurry, hurry, hurry…” he murmured.

“Ru- Nexu,” Nordika asked. “Please assist with removing the droids’ memory and operating chips. Cy’een can’t do it all by herself. Opee will help make sure they’re successfully vented out the airlock.”

Opee sounded almost hurt.  _ “Hey, I was going to do that anyway!” _

“Then do it.”

She almost imagined the huff, but nerves prevented her from doing anything about it.

Her eyes tracked from the flashing lights on the control board back to empty space. Tiny pinpricks of light were calling out to her, dripping with silver sparkles and glittering like blurry raindrops on transparisteel. It was foreign to have quiet in such a tense situation.

That little voice pulled at her mind again, but her focus on the stars out beyond drowned it beneath the waves of her concentration.

Breath in. Breath out.

_ I’m not letting anything happen to my crew. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Theme music intensifies*
> 
> Dun dun dun-dun dun du-du-dunnnnn.
> 
> Crack summary!  
> Sámhach: Hey work faster pls  
> Nira: I am  
> Sámhach: **Did I stutter?**
> 
> Soooo I'm back. From my inactivity. I'm here. I was trying to get out another chapter, but then-
> 
> Essay 1: Hey.  
> Essay 2: Hey.  
> Essay 3: Heyyyy.
> 
> ...did I crunch out three essays at once? ...yes.  
> When will I post the next chapter? Dunno. I'm working on what I've affectionately called my 'AU Disaster'. Not quite sure what the actual title will be yet, but it'll have to have some similarities to 'Yellow Eyes and Wicked Lies'. It is immensely fun to write and I love it. It's testing my patience, though. :/ Thrass is really hard to write.


	12. The Mandalorian and the Assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If our enemies were faceless, would we know them as friends?

**Six Years Ago**

_ The darkness is consuming, painful and sweet, dripping with the promise of revenge. _

_ It waits, it waits, it waits. It knows. _

_ It knows that it is too sickly sweet for it to be pushed away. _

_ The darkness blazes with hatred, fear, and anger. It is a slippery creature, not how soap is slippery, but how water is slippery, forming some sort of shape but remaining ungraspable. _

_ Its thirst is never quenched, and it continues to hunger, hunger, until nothing in the galaxy will satisfy its lust for rage and to cause others the pain it feels. _

White hands, pale not from lack of sun or life but of skin that just does not retain colour, gripped the edge of the plastisteel table.

Behind her, a drunk flyboy jeered slurs.

“What’s wrong, pretty-eyed harpy? Don’t like being pushed around?”

A twinge of irrational fear accompanied by an overwash of anger drowned her sense. She was no mere  _ pretty-eyes _ for him to shove around.

_ I am the daughter of the ice. You, mere creature, dare to challenge me? _

She twirled on her heels and leapt up to standing position, her back stiff with suppressed hatred. Nordika had been working herself to the limit all month, dodging Imperial patrols, smuggling goods to and from buyers, eliminating any leads connecting her to her crimes, training hard, and running from two assassins that were out to detach her throat from her body.

And she liked it just where it was,  _ thank you. _

She let out a thin hiss between her teeth.

The human, perhaps in his late twenties, jumped around, throwing mock punches. It was amazing he was still able to stand upright. He lifted his chin arrogantly. “Got a problem, farm girl? Afraid you’re out of your depth?”

Nordika tightened the cloth over her nose and mouth, tucking back dark red hair. She could have just used a helmet, but Agamarian culture was too ingrained into her mind for her to completely cover her face and head.

_ Ooo, you’re about to get a nasty surprise, flyboy. _

Two more men sauntered up behind the first. They were a little soberer, but  _ clearly _ their brains needed rearranging before they’d be able to think again.

She was far from walking away, her calm already up and gone beyond her sight. Maybe the thrill would clear  _ her _ head, enable her to see past the fog crowding her senses.

Or perhaps that was just what she liked to tell herself.

There was a knife pressed up against her forearm. It had been there since her run-in with the sand viper, and she'd vowed to make sure she'd never be unarmed again. But then, an assassin was  _ never _ unarmed. Not when she had flesh and bone.

It flashed white as she drew it out.  Her blasters stayed in their holsters.

She saw something olive and sandy-yellow edging into the corner of her vision. On her left. As if it needed to be noticed.

A gauntleted hand clapped down on her shoulder, followed by a soft, filtered voice.  _ "Perhaps it would be wise if-" _

She wrenched their arm forward and threw them. Raging, raging, hating how easy it was to go unnoticed on her left.

As they flew through the air, she wondered why everyone who snuck up behind her didn't think she would flip them over her.

_ Hmmm, perhaps they're all foolish? Nothing more? Hardly new. _

The decidedly male Mandalorian landed somewhat ungracefully. Surprising, that he had landed at all. Considering he was flipped towards his back.

His stance was rigid with surprise as he gained his balance. His black visor flickered with the lights above as his face turned to her.

_ Soulless creature, _ a little voice inside her head whispered.

_ Perhaps I should have not reacted... instantly.  _ A deranged chuckle escaped her pale lips, her eyes flashing with bright green madness.

The three drunk men bellowed with laughter, their faces tilted to the ceiling, struggling to keep upright. 

The robust bartender rolled her eyes. "Don't break anything," she growled. She made no move to defend Nordika.

_ Very well. But I make no promise for noses. _

She cast an uncanny grin at the Mandalorian. And slammed full-body into the closest drunkie. 

He went down hard. She stuck a boot in his gut. He grunted, his arm cradling his stomach. Nordika pivoted like a ballerina, her other foot flashing around. Black, black, a shadow dancing. Tap, tap, heel to floor, a shimmer of blood.

The second lost balance and fell.

Her knife rested under the flyboy's chin. A flash of white, white, his hands stuck in the air.

"Woah, pretty girl," he said quickly. "How 'bout we just talk?"

She kneed him in the groin. He crumpled like liquid paper, breath of Spice and alcohol.

Nordika glared down at him, groaning on the floor. Her lip curled, green eyes glowing with a sneer. "Next time you spit names, I'll leave your body in a dumpster."

Another flicker, a flash, and the knife disappeared.  She readjusted the black cloth over her nose and mouth. "Shame on you."

The break in the chatter around the club was refilled, pouring laughter and useless conversation. She stepped carefully over one of the other drunkies and made her way back to her table.

The presence of the Mandalorian followed her.

_ What do you want, Mando? _

Nordika settled back into her seat, her arm draped over the armrest, fingers ticking against her holster. It could be anyone under that helmet.

She wouldn't trust someone she couldn't see.

_ You hide under a visor? You are either a coward or a planner. But you are no Mandalorian. _

A Mandalorian didn't back down from a good fight. Especially not when their honour was challenged.

_ Or perhaps you are a liar? _

She leaned back, her chin tilted to look him dead on. He approached her table, cautiously, the harsh lights framing his lean form.

Now, unless you wanted your ass kicked, you didn't just drop in on someone else's table. Whether he asked or not would determine how much he used this backwater planet.

"Will you object if I sit here?" His voice was smooth, the accent under the helmet difficult to decide.

_ A foreigner, but at least one with a sense of culture. _

"Go ahead," she said, gesturing expressionlessly.  _ Let's see if your guts are durasteel or dura _ peel.

His sightline shifted to one of the many cheap screens in the club, sitting innocently above the bar. He did not order a drink when a waitress passed, nor did he yet try at conversation.

Nordika noted that the drunkies had barely moved.

His armour was worn, and if she didn't know better, she would have thought it was real wear. But she could see that it didn't  _ quite _ look right, as if someone had referenced a holo yet couldn't get it down to the art.

Interesting. For what purpose?

Most of his armour was olive green, such as his chestplate. But his gauntlets were a rich sand-yellow, much like the beaches of this planet. K-1224-A was its formal name, given to it by some unimaginative Coruscanti explorer. Its informal name was a little different, such as 'half-baked Suuli cake', 'Wild Space farmyard' and 'where-the-hell-is-that'. Around Black Sun, it was simply known as Kullwa.

Intel here was rich. Which raised the 'why'. No one went out this far for the views. Not even the wealthy.

The people here had a purpose. Serve and be served.

_ What was his? _

"You are partially blind on your left side."

"I didn't know Mandalorian bounty hunters were opticians," she replied calmly. Inside, the monster burned a fiery red. Hot, melting through her ribs.

"I apologize for my previous interaction. I had not realized."

_ So that was why he was edging into my vision. To gain my attention. Otherwise, I would assume he would have tried a different approach if he had already known I am partially blind. _

"I won't hold it against you," Nordika said dryly. Her gaze shifted to where his rested. "So, what do you want?"

"Excuse me?" His full attention was on her now.

"You have a purpose. If I was not it, you wouldn't be sitting here, wasting your time. You're no assassin either, as your attention is off. So, what do you want?"

He was silent for a moment. Considering. "I was informed you were the most accurate source of information."

She knew better than to ask from whom. There would be no answer. Rephrasing would yield the most results.

_ Perhaps this one is ex-military? _

"What kind of information we talking?" she asked slyly, letting some of her lyrical accent dribble in.

"People. Particularly dog packs."

It didn't quite fall off his tongue right.  _ He's new. Great. We got a shiny who's trying not to look it. Hence the 'worn' armour. _

"That's touchy business," she said, her tone snapping back to no-nonsense. "You don't have that kind of pass."

"Ah, but I have a job."

"I'm busy."

"It involves two Twi'lek assassins."

Her eyes narrowed. "I find that unlikely. You don't touch what you can't name." The old saying echoed. 

Sometimes, her mother did teach a good lesson.

"I believe I can name them well. The Erera sisters are agents for no one. They leave behind betrayal, but make enough trouble that they haven't had their debts collected. They also have a particular interest in you."

The rest was unspoken:  _ which is why I'm bothering to tell you this. I know you're interested. _

And she was very, very interested.

"And you are willing to trade this for my knowledge?"  _ I think you're after something a little more, Mando. _

"You certainly understand that this profession runs on information. Without it, there is no target."

"Some get by on mere faith, foreigner."

"Not you."

Her neck prickled in warning at the statement.  _ Blunt and still suspicious. I might just like you, Mando. _

"So you are willing to make a trade in information. We have a deal."

Of course, information could be manipulated while remaining true. She'd see how intelligent he really was, or whether he was no more than a bucket-brain who needed his neck broken. Whoever was under there was no stuck-up Imperial sock-dryer, so at least there was that.

_ What do I have to lose in this? _

She offered her hand. He clasped it strongly. _Excellent grip._

"Dog packs. Where and who?"

"The Outer Rim and Mid Rim underworlds. Specifically Orbula territory."

It was surprising his blasters weren't on the table and up in her face, now that they'd sealed the deal.

"Who, Orbula? They're just a bunch of classic rich who-knows who couldn't get enough spite on Coruscant and Corellia, so they make trouble in the Outer Rim. With the added black market weapons, of course."

"They have no dog packs?"

"They have factions. Some do this, some do that. There are a couple of dog packs, but they operate differently. They have commanders that don't come on the missions with their troops. That way, if anyone in their team defects or fails, the commander will die.”

“A waste.”

“It’s life,” she stated emotionlessly.  _ But it is a coward’s life. _

“It does not have to be if you choose differently.”

“Some of us don’t get a choice,” Nordika said, bitterness seeping beneath the words. “Some of us live like this because we have to. There is no place among the stars that exists for everyone.”

The Mandalorian was silent for a moment. 

“I understand,” he answered softly.

Her voice was again flat. “Good. Now, the dog packs Orbula  _ does _ have are not to be messed with. After all, their commanders fear for their lives. The ones to be worried about are Acklay, Dura, Asintine, and the Associates. The Associates are by far the most dangerous. Asintine is second.”

"I assumed you were _ with  _ Asintine."

_ "Asinine," _ she muttered under her breath. "No. I don't mess with that dog pack, and I’m clearly not  _ in _ it. They're snipers and gang dropouts with no direction but sideways. The only reason they haven't died from stupidity is because they're good on the trigger."

“Would you rather choose the Associates?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“They lack mercy in a way I do not wish to share.”

“You are an assassin.” Was that disapproval?

“Correct. Which means fast, painless kills.” There was warning beneath the words. _Unless they truly deserve to suffer._ “I make sure they’re painless and that’s how I’ll always do it.”

“Where I am from, it is unusual for assassins to have honour.”

She raised an eyebrow. The black visor gave her no clues as to what he meant. “ _ Where I am from”? Do you think they have honour anywhere? _

“It’s your turn to offer me some of what you know.”

His helmet tipped forward in acknowledgement. She kept her eyes rooted to his hands as he produced a small holocom and set it on the table.

It flickered to life.

There were two Twi’leks. Neither of them looked out of the ordinary. Both of them wore form-fitting black cloaks, armour glinting faintly in the form of gauntlets and chest plates. The Erera sisters were orange-skinned, lithe, and green-eyed. The shorter of the two, likely the younger one, had a severe burn scar down the right side of her face, bleaching the skin colourless. It disappeared beneath her clothing. Her eye had gone completely white, milky and useless.

Nordika knew how it felt.  _ Torture. _

It was strange to put faces to her hunters.

“The one you are focused on is Kera Erera. She is the younger of the sisters, but the most dangerous. The taller one is Nira Erera. Both are weapons experts, known for their patience and lack of loyalty. As I have stated, they have a long history of betrayal. Their skill has kept them alive.”

She narrowed her acid green eyes. Was that-? On their armour-?

_ Black Sun? _

“They work for Black Sun?” There was that red mark, slashes across their chest plates, framing a black sphere.

“I was also curious. Are you not in the same organization?”

Nordika said nothing, her gaze lasered onto the holos.

The same.

The same.

_ We are not the same. _

“I left.”

He- he paused. “You… left.”

“You didn’t think someone could?” 

“No.” The word was heavy.  _ They can’t, you fool. I am barely alive. _

_ Now, he was expecting something in relation to Black Sun. Why? _

Her suspicion swirled into anger. Orange flickering into red.

“What do you  _ really _ want, foreigner? You’re neither a Mandalorian nor a bounty hunter.” She leaned forward, her eyes blazing with green flames.  _ “Do you think you can fool me?” _

The not-Mandalorian straightened, grasped the holocom, and did something with his fingers. She didn’t know what he’d done, but the picture changed.

And there was another…  _ thing _ she knew. No, not a human. A creature. A hideous monster. Responsible for massacres and cruelness and death.

“The Midnight Sun.” Her glare met his helmet. “Why do you change the subject?”

“If you do not listen to me now, your ignorance will kill you later. You have thoroughly left Black Sun, correct?”

She nodded. _Why are you telling me this?_

“It has saved your life. Three hours ago I received word that there was an attack on Ord Mantell.”

Her lips twitched beneath the cloth. It could be a trick to get a reaction from her.  _ That was where- _

He continued. “The entire company present was killed, along with several thousand civilians. Accurate and inaccurate reports are difficult to separate, but it seems the one you call Midnight Sun has assassinated Captain Saiten Caaz. He and his allies are dead.”

She noted he seemed rather tense. Then what he’d said hit her.

Nordika blinked. 

Dead? That was too good to be true.  _ Surely _ he couldn’t have been killed. The Falleen was far too intelligent… but… the Midnight Sun…

_ He’s dead? _

Her cheeks were pale, paler than they had ever been. “Are you  _ certain?” _

“Yes.”

Her earpiece beeped.

She turned away from him and stood. “Excuse me, I have to take a call.”

When Nordika was out of sight, she pulled out her own holocom. The sound filtered into her earpiece.

_ “Viper, are you there?” _ a rich voice demanded.

“Nexu? Yes. Report.”

_ “You must see this.” _

The holo switched to a view of a screen. A Rodian was rapidly reporting as an aerial view shifted along slowly. It should have shown a thoroughly defended complex.

It was all burning. It was all painted black.

_ It’s all gone. _

_ “Viper, Captain Saiten Caaz is dead. Along with sixty of his strongest allies. In Kagai’s name, Viper, they’re all  _ **_gone.”_ **

It was true.  _ It was true. _

She had cheated death once again. Luck, faith, coincidence, but she didn't believe in such _lies._

But if the complex had been infiltrated and destroyed...

None of them were safe.

Because if Black Sun was going down, everything was going down with it.

Even her, the traitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOOOOOOO  
> HEY! Yeah, I'm still alive. I FINALLY got back to this. Would you believe me if I told you my AU Disaster is spinning out of control? Because it is. It really is. hElp mE  
> But I finally thought up a name for it! It's going to be called _Star, Shine on my Grave_ and I may or may not have cried a little at one part. It's fine. It's totally fine... *sob*. But yeah that has angst like I've never written before.  
> Anyway!  
> You probably can figure out who the Mando is. All I can say is that I enjoyed writing this chapter. You'll find out who the Midnight Sun is later. For now, we'll learn a little more about Nordika's past.  
> Lol, a stuck-up Imperial sock-dryer. I like that insult.


	13. Death's Messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At what point does the hunter become the hunted?

**Six Years Ago (Continued)**

“Is there  _ anything _ else you know?” Nordika demanded. 

_ “Only that the reports are just coming out. There was a delay of several hours; something to do with their comms being jammed. The Midnight Sun could be anywhere by now. We must leave.” _

“It wouldn’t come after-”

_ “You are on every wanted list, Viper! Do you not realize? The Empire has removed the Captain, so now they’ll come after  _ you!”

The Mandalorian was speaking into his comm, his attention off her. The holocom was gone, tucked away.  _ Could he be…? I will not risk it. _

“Yes, I realize,” she said harshly. “So there’s a bounty on my head. Are the ports still open?”

_ “For now,” _ Nexu hissed ominously.  _ “And the skies are clear. But you know well that the Midnight Sun needs no Star Destroyer to bring destruction.” _

Nordika grimaced. Yes, she had been a fool to accept a hit job on the Midnight Sun, all those years ago. Perhaps that was the reason Admiral Thrawn had found her that night, running from her failure. After all, the Midnight Sun was no normal assassin.

The creature was an Imperial.

_ I will pay for that mistake. _

She drew in a deep breath. Shaky and uncontrolled. “I need you to get to the  _ Adonis. _ Do not start the preflight sequence until I say, and you must disguise the ship’s signature. Once there, watch the skies for a silver, hawk-like ship. If Death's messenger comes, it comes on those wings.”

_ “I understand. How well are you armed?” _

Her teeth clenched. “If it comes down to combat, my friend, I will already be dead.”

_ “Is it so bad?” _

“You haven’t met the creature.”

_ “I hope not to. Shall I go now?” _

“Yes. And with haste, my good friend. May the stars look down on us favourably.”

_ “In Kagai’s name, they will.” _

The connection fizzled and died. Nexu now had his path, and she could not pave it for him. As for the foreigner…

Her tattoo prickled.

_ Listen to the birds,  _ her mother would say.  _ What do they tell you? _

Here, the birds were people, drunk and skyless, clipped wings by their own choice. What did they tell her?

_ There is no danger yet. But when the tooka comes, they will scatter. They always scatter. _

Nordika listened to the thumping music, the swish of loose fabric, the clink of glasses on tables and against each other in well-wishing. For now, everything was calm. As it should be. Kullwa did not need to become a grave. It did not need to be painted black like Ord Mantell.

Nordika returned to the table. The Mandalorian said something into his comm and cut the connection.

_ You are a fool to think I am ignorant. _

“There is danger coming,” the Mandalorian said. “We must leave swiftly or both of us will likely perish.”

_ Your info’s good Mando, but that doesn’t mean I trust you. _

“How do I know you are not the one who brings death?” Nordika challenged, her green eyes narrowed.

“You are no use to me dead.”

Her toes curled.  _ No? But who is to say there will not be pain? _

She stood, and the Mandalorian followed her movement. His hands still rested on the table, as if afraid she would strike if they drifted near his blasters.

“I have had that said before. It makes you no less suspicious.”

He inclined his helmet. “That is true.”

“Whether anything is true, we have made an exchange. I do not care what else you have to share unless I can trust you.” Her eyes burned. “And I cannot trust you, foreigner.”

“The Imperial As-”

She cut him off. “We do not say that name here.”

“The Midnight Sun. Have you met before?”

“Yes.”

“Do you  _ know _ her?”

_ Her. I think you may know ‘her’ better than me. _

“I do not.” Her finger jerked sharply to the recording. “But  _ that _ is no joke.”

“I did not say it was.”

_ Do you fear?  _ The little voice whispered.

_ I fear. _

“No matter,” Nordika said firmly. “Kullwa is not a place Imperials make a habit of visiting.”

"On the contrary-"

She followed his gaze. And her whole body went rigid.

In the midst of all the lights and colour and movement, there stood an icy shadow. Sucking all the life away into gleaming darkness. The disco sparkles didn't touch the black, the black, the clean black. Only the slight flex of a cloak shimmered silver. 

The soulless mask slowly, slowly, connected with her sight.

Her blood froze.

_ Run, _ the little voice whispered.

“Run,” she spat, shoving his shoulder. “Run!”

A glimpse. A mere glimpse. She thought she saw it hesitate. 

People screamed. As they realized what it was. As terror turned their dances into fights. Five men lunged at the creature.

Nordika burst out the back door, the foreigner close behind. The flailing bartender caught her eye. Just a flicker.

The assassin had her by the throat, lifted up with one hand. The men lay on the floor with the previous three. Unconscious. Bleeding out. Red against the black.

_ The sun has set on you. Your body will be there tomorrow. _

Nordika grabbed the Mandalorian’s arm and ripped him forward. A blaster bolt sizzled above his head.

They ran.

Shops and people and speeders flashed by.

_ Where are you going? _ the voice asked.

They ran.

She didn't answer the whisper.

Nordika heard screams on the wind. Blaster fire. Snapping bones. They pierced her ears.

_ Maybe I am not the target? _

The black shimmered. Silver shimmer. Flash. Flicker. Nordika smashed into the ground. Her calf blazed with pain. Fire. Blazing.

_ Hurt. _

The Mandalorian wrenched her up, returning fire. Going for arms, legs, non-lethals.

“What are you  _ doing?” _ Nordika spat, leaping forward. Small blaster in hand, spitting death. "Kill it, coward!"

The other assassin danced around with ease. Flash, flicker, flow. Silver and black, masked face, precision fire. The Mandalorian's armour crackled as the shots hit true. He stumbled back, regaining balance.

The Midnight Sun sprinted after them, framed by the setting sun. Orange, red and yellow glowed around it. Flames, licking it harmlessly. Soulless mask glinting with the sunset.

A window behind Nordika smashed. Someone screamed. But not in pain, not fear, but rage and-

Heat whizzed past her cheek.

The Midnight Sun jerked sideways. A lamp exploded behind it, showering sparks and spattering light. And out of the glass, crunching pieces at their feet, came two orange Twi’leks, black armour, flapping cloaks.

And one of them threw a detonator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!  
> lol I keep forgetting this is supposed to be a third-person reader fic. 0_0  
> I probably should be writing my other fic but this one needed an update soooo hello again! Don't worry, we'll get back to the present soon.  
> And I'm not dead.  
>  _Yet._  
>  Also thanks for all the kudos and comments! They're really appreciated and keep me going.  
> Cheers!


	14. Nira and Kera Erera (Artwork)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rough painting I did of Kera and Nira, the Twi'lek mercenaries, using Medibang Paint. If you can see them, the links decided to work and I don't have to rip my hair out. If they don't show up, try copying the link at the bottom and pasting it in a new tab.
> 
> If you still can't see them...
> 
> # *screams*

Link:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/abk0e4llh01ejsr/1603561301323.jpg?dl=0


	15. The Smile of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smile of death, of knowing, of everything you cannot possibly foresee.

**Six Years Ago (Continued)**

_ I do not  _ feel _ angry. I  _ am _ angry. The ache is in my bones, dripping bright red and dark purple. The fire is in my eyes, crying tears of rage. _

_ I do not merely feel it. I am the hate I create, skin that burns and bubbles. _

I am rage.

_ And I am coming. _

Kera Erera hurled the detonator with perfect aim.

The Midnight Sun leapt out of the way. The small bomb clattered harmlessly across the pavement, shining briefly with the sky’s dying light.

It exploded like a star.

The blast threw Nordika to the ground. She heard the scraping of metal against stone, but her ears rang too loudly. It sounded so far. Drowned.

She saw her own white hand, lying in front of her face. There was ruby against the pearl skin, and dirt had smudged along her fingers. Orange lay just in the corner of her gaze, and there was also black metal and cloth-

She stood up and fired into the smoke.

The Erera sisters joined her, pressing forward, firing into the haze of dust. Red flashed white against it, transparisteel mirroring it at their boots.

Kera threw another. This one didn’t explode. It hissed, rattling, and cover smoke spurted out, thick and grey. It swallowed the rubble already half-hidden.

Olive green and sand yellow rose up beside her. Nordika’s gaze flicked to him, then back to the Erera sisters.

The group passed a look among them.

They ran.

They did not look back.

The group sprinted down every grimy alley they could find, dodging traffic and uninterested people.

All of them were breathing hard, finally stuttering to a stop in a dark, filthy gap between two buildings. The sisters’ foreheads shimmered with sweat, and Nordika wheezed. The Mandalorian’s breath rasped behind his helmet.

“I didn’t know you liked Mandalorians,” Nira Erera hissed out, her bright orange lekku twitching.

Nordika’s green eyes met hers, acid against acid. Heavily leaning on one leg. “I didn’t know you cared.”

Kera Erera and the Mandalorian stayed silent. The viper tattoo on her arm prickled warningly, hidden from sight.

“I should have shot you instead of the Midnight Sun.”

“It wouldn’t offer you any courtesy,  _ Erera,” _ Nordika shot back. 

Kera’s eyes flicked to her, milky eye as blank as her green one, but still said nothing. A fresh graze twisted down one of her lekku, weeping blood. She kept watch, leaned up casually against a filthy duracrete wall, cool shadows cast over her.

Unaffected.

Her green eyes drifted over Nira’s chestplate, noting the dents and scratches. The Black Sun mark had been scraped off, rough grey against the black armour. Kera’s had been done just the same.

_ And so the wind has changed. _

Fresh blaster burns scored the sisters’ sides.

_ The birds scatter and screech death. _

“You left,” Nordika said, tipping her head, narrowing her eyes.

“I don’t appreciate death,” Nira spat back coldly, exasperated. “Not on my own head.”

Kera Erera raised an eyebrow serenely.

The Mandalorian stirred beside Nordika. Her ear twitched in reflex as he spoke, resisting the urge to take her gaze off Nira.

“I find it unlikely the Midnight Sun perished in the explosion.”

Nira’s stare darted to him as if surprised he could speak. “I had wondered if you were all armour and no brain, Mando. You haven’t disproven my theory.”

Kera made a cutting gesture with her bruised orange hand, skin peeking out from under her tattered black gloves. Nira paused, then pressed her mouth into a thin line. 

The younger sister walked to her elder sister's side quietly, youthful face as neutral as the Mandalorian’s visor. Without speaking, without voice, she produced a holocom. With it, a map flared to life.

“The points smugglers often use will be under surveillance,” Kera said. But her voice did not have the accent of Ryloth like her sister. It flowed with the hiss of rushing water, with the softness of sand under your bare feet, with the wind murmuring in your ear.

But there had been blood spilt beneath it, clogging the sand, dyeing the water, screaming over the breeze.

Somehow, Kera had wound all of this like a ribbon around her words, a ribbon tightening around Nordika’s throat, freezing the space in her chest.

To her surprise, Kera did not have the look of a killer, a soldier, a hunter. Just a Twi’lek girl with empty mismatched eyes.

_ So are the eyes of war. Battered and broken. _

“The official ones will have their normal surveillance. It’s unlikely the Midnight Sun had enough time to motivate their defences, so they will be our best shot at escape.”

“Why are you using those routes?” Nordika asked, frowning sharply. A cutting expression. “If you’re trying to access the ports, you can simply cut around the surveillance using the common route.”

Kera glanced at her older sister. “Because we have someone we need to retrieve.”

“I’m trying to get out of here alive, not pick up people along the way.”

“You can split up and be picked off by the Midnight Sun.”

Nordika ground her teeth. Now was no time for arguing.  _ “Very well. _ Who’s the contact?”

“A friend.”

“I didn’t know you had a thing for  _ friends,” _ she shot back, scowling under her face-cloth.

Kera’s green eye flashed. “We can argue around and around,” she hissed icily, her voice's cold fingers dragging down Nordika’s back. “But the circle you leave is the carving for your grave.”

_ You dare recite an old Agamarian saying? _

She bit back a snarl.

The Mandalorian tipped his helmet to the sky. “Waiting makes us vulnerable. We must move.”

_ “Coward,” _ Nordika muttered under her breath. “You know where you’re going. So go, before we end up with our heads on platters.”

Kera led them out of the nook they had sheltered in, striding hurriedly along the wall. Sticking to the shadows. Exploiting the placement of the lights in the fading sunset. The walk of a sniper, quiet and careful and strictly trained not to give any dangerous intent away.

_ Skilled. _

Perhaps if they were not trying to kill each other, these Twi’lek’s would make valuable allies.

Nordika could not shake the breath of terror from the back of her neck. She noticed it in the others too, even in the Mandalorian.  But he had a different kind of worry. Even some anger.

_ Who are you to be  _ angry _ at the Midnight Sun, Mando? _

They scuttled along the edge of the road, sometimes slowly, sometimes at a run.

Kera held up a hand. 

Nira immediately halted, and Nordika almost tripped trying to stop so quickly.  The Mandalorian steadied her with a firm hand.

She muttered her thanks.

“He should be in that building.” She pointed across the street, dull lights glimmering off the remains of her glove.

Nordika squinted. It looked the same as almost every other building they’d passed, except for the slightly darker shade of the door. The _old_ door, an ancient model that didn't open to movement or command.

_ What do the birds tell you? _ Her mother whispered against her ear.

_ They are too quiet. _

Nordika flinched as Nira sprinted across the street, bursting through the door and slamming it behind her. Kera’s fingers tightened around her blaster.

Watching.

Nordika slid out her own blaster.

_ They will betray you, _ the little voice whispered.

_ Then they will die, _ she hissed back.

The Mandalorian stood tense, as tense as she had ever seen him.

_ Perhaps he is far more than he appears. Or less, a coward hiding behind a helmet. _

She breathed out, the sound loud amongst the silence. Amongst the quiet colours of darkness surrounding her with their embrace.

_ Why do you think the birds do not speak? _ Her mother asked.

_ Because they are all gone. _

Distantly, Nordika heard a click. Not loud, not overly obvious. Just… a click.

She frowned deeply.

Kera and the Mandalorian gave no evidence of having heard it.

She shook it off.  _ Paranoia. Your adrenaline is getting the better of you. _

Kera muttered something.

_ “What?” _ Nordika hissed, her adrenaline spiking again.

_ “She shouldn’t be taking-” _ Kera relaxed.  _ “Nevermind.” _

Nira slowly opened the beaten door, her orange skin almost grey-brown in the dark. Her green eyes flicked left, then right, betrayed only by the slight flash of light in her irises.

_ Like a nexu’s eyes. _

Nira slipped past the door, a thin figure following in her shadow. Kera beckoned to them sharply.

Both of them slunk out, avoiding the lights. The faintest gleam echoing Nira’s black armour, a mere glimmer in the young man’s eyes. He had a streak of white hair that stood out like snow.

Nira reached them, deflating with a short breath. “Now we can-”

A blaster bolt came screaming out of nowhere.

* * *

**Present Day**

Grand Admiral Thrawn finished speaking with his fleet and shut down the holocom. His subordinates' holograms flickered blue and dissipated.  Eli Vanto’s eyes were heavy with thought, his arms folded over his chest as if to soothe himself.

“Your thoughts, Commander?”

“The shipment has arrived, so you’re probably waiting for contact from the surface. Then you’ll send someone down to the surface, won’t you? Because it’s just a distraction.”

“Very good,” Thrawn said, his gaze still resting where the holograms had been.

He knew Vanto’s eyes would light up with his praise.

“What else?”

“As you said before, the insurgents will try to blow up the _Chimaera._ Assuming… you’re on the surface? Occupied?”

“An accurate deduction. They will indeed try to separate me from the fleet. And as you said, I will send another down to review the cargo instead. Do you believe you are up to the task, Commander?”

Thrawn turned to survey Vanto’s reaction.

The Commander’s brown eyes lit up. “Of course, sir. What do you need me to do?”

“You will board my personal shuttle and review the cargo on the surface. Whatever message you find, destroy it. I can trust you to deal with the rest.”

His eyes shone a little brighter. “Yessir. And what will you do?”

“I will wait for our challengers to arrive.”

Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the holocom began flashing. Bright blue, demanding attention.

A small smile touched Thrawn’s lips.

“And now, I believe, the battle has truly begun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know someone's gonna die when Thrawn smiles like that.  
> And I know, I know. Cliffhangers. Who gets shot? Stay tuned.
> 
> :D :D  
> Too tired for crack summaries, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


End file.
